"Stubborn as a mule." Sylvan Cheney coldly tossed out four words.
Jasmine Yale instead laughed, but the laughter lacked warmth: "I may not be as insightful as you, I may not measure up to you, but don't deny my efforts. Even if life doesn't go smoothly in the future, I'll live well. In the future, don't see me again, can you do that?"
"Do you think I want to see you? I'm just reminding you for old times' sake."
"Well, thank you for the reminder, I've received it."
Sylvan Cheney didn't like her attitude, and looked at her coldly.
Jasmine Yale turned around and walked away quickly, not even saying goodbye to him.
She left along the corridor, her shadow gradually disappearing at the corner, until her slender figure could no longer be seen.
The sunset was still that same sunset, the flowers and plants still thriving, the air filled with the scent and warmth of spring, year after year the flowers bloom, year after year people change.
